


Lufiendlic

by putconspiraciesinit



Category: 19th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, Political RPF - US 19th c.
Genre: 1800 US Presidential Election, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Conspiracy Theories, Eldritch, Exhaustion, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy Politics, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Invention of Open Election Campaigns, Kidnapping, Lovecraftian, M/M, Missing Persons, Multi, Political Campaigns, Protests, Rating will change, Spirits, Warnings are for future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-19 00:04:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putconspiraciesinit/pseuds/putconspiraciesinit
Summary: SHAMELESS fantasy AU.A human politician vanishes off the face of the earth while tracking down a fairy whom he insists tried to seduce him.The day after this happens, the Democratic-Republican party acquires a new campaign manager: an attractive pixie named Aaron Burr, whom the public are convinced was behind Hamilton's disappearance.Unfortunately, Burr has more pressing matters to attend to; the Republicans are planning something, and he seems to be the sole internal dissenter, the only person who knows what's really happening and is willing to stop it--but he will have to figure out a way to stop it without arousing any suspicion from the party's leader, Thomas Jefferson, who somehow knows his True Name and can therefore force him to do literally anything.Or, TL;DR, The Election Of 1800 And Also The Burr Conspiracy, But It's A Bad Fantasy AU





	1. Chapter 1

The only detail anybody knew was that the missing person--a human politician--had last been seen trying to track down a fairy.

He’d developed a bit of an obsession, the past few years. Nobody really paid it any mind. The man had always been a bit...intense. If any resident human was going to swear vengeance on some fairy he was absolutely convinced was magically seducing him, it would be Alexander Hamilton. Somebody had probably bet on it. 

And then he wasn’t in his house, the next morning.

Nobody had seen him at work, either.

Or around the neighborhood.

The last time anybody had seen him was tracking down the alleged seducer.

***

The desk had what appeared to be a tiny chair growing out of its top surface, and a tiny desk, about the right size for somebody to sit in if they happened to be approximately three inches tall. The work, no doubt, of the man who usually occupied the office; being a tree spirit, he could do things like grow tiny chairs and desks out of the wood of his own desk. These were actually functional, and somebody about that size was sitting in the chair, making the awkward and unmistakable expression of somebody who was the first to arrive at a meeting. He glanced at the door. The chair wasn’t designed for someone with wings. It was rather uncomfortable.

***

Aaron Burr could hardly blame the general public for assuming he had disappeared Hamilton. After all, him partnering up with Hamilton’s greatest political rival the day after the man had disappeared? Sure, it wasn’t technically hard evidence of anything, but the public liked a good spectacle. A good conspiracy theory. And ‘Jefferson’s PR guy killed Alexander Hamilton or spirited him away to Faerie’ was a good conspiracy theory. He didn’t hold it against anyone. It was predictable. He should have expected it, really.

What he was  _ not _ expecting, however, was for his new boss to finally arrive to meet with him and immediately say,

“I know you vanished Mr. Hamilton.”

Burr blinked.

“Er...what? Sir, forgive my bluntness, but is that any way to begin what is supposed to be a strategic meeting?”

“I know exactly what happened that night, and I know how to force you to confess, too.”

Gathering what energy he had left after travelling all the way from his estate to Monticello, Burr leapt off of Jefferson’s desk, took a deep breath, and within an instant was about the size of a (very short) human. He couldn’t very well look intimidating or confrontational at three inches.

“Sir,” he said, “now, be reasonable.”

Oh, who was Burr kidding? He still didn’t look anywhere near intimidating. Tree spirits were  _ too _ damn tall; Jefferson still had at least a foot on him.

“Oh, don’t you worry, little one. I  _ am _ reasonable; I’m not going to do it, as long as you do  _ everything _ I say.”

“Fae don’t just do favors, you know that, sir. What do I get out of this?”

“𝖍𝖊Á𝖍 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖈í𝖊𝖓𝖊 𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖎𝖈 𝖇𝖗ý𝖒𝖒𝖊,” murmured Jefferson, “you will do as I say, or everyone will have all the proof they need to lock you up for what happened with Hamilton.”

***

The next day, most of America’s population awoke to find signs planted all over the place reading “Thomas Jefferson for President 1800.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: burr's Real Magic Fae Name is just badly-translated fancy old timey anglo saxon. here's the approximate intended meaning:
> 
> heÁh: "lofty, exalted"; literally means the same thing as "Aaron"  
sunscíene: "radiant, beautiful as the sun"  
lufiendlic: "lovely; charming; pleasing in looks and manner"  
brýmme: "edge," or one of the meanings of the word "burr."
> 
> So basically, it just means "Aaron 'Really Really Fucking Pretty' Burr."
> 
> note that it might not actually mean that at all, since i got this off an old english translation dictionary and i don't actually speak old english so i don't know how accurate it is, but for story purposes It Be Like That Sometimes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron Burr's Campaign Antics: The Fantasy Version

The election was looking good. Burr barely had to use any magic; the Federalist party were a  _ mess _ . They had split into too many factions to be a cohesive political unit, all fighting each other as fiercely as they were fighting the Democratic-Republicans. Even with Hamilton himself out of the picture, his supporters were going off at John Adams as much as ever. Really, Burr wasn’t sure why Jefferson felt the need to go to such lengths to campaign against them. Even if they somehow won, the party would burn itself to the ground within weeks.

But Jefferson had made himself very clear that Burr was to campaign for him, and Burr wasn’t willing to take the risk of doing the bare minimum. Not with Jefferson knowing his True Name. He didn’t know Jefferson well enough to really believe he was just bluffing.

No, Burr would have to keep Jefferson pacified while he looked for a way to escape safely.

***

There was a massive crowd gathered in the square. Nobody remarked on how quickly the stage had gone up, and nobody really seemed to know  _ why _ it was there.

Suddenly, a figure materialized on the stage in a puff of very glittery pink smoke. The smoke cleared; a very short man with large, butterfly-like wings, wearing a nice suit in the most obnoxiously bright shade of green imaginable.

“ 𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 !” he yelled.

By the time he had finished that single sentence, the entire crowd had gone completely silent. His voice seemed magnified, in a way, that reached everybody present and was utterly impossible to ignore or speak over.

“My name is Aaron Burr, I’m the campaign manager for Thomas Jefferson and the Democratic-Republican party. As you’ve all most likely heard, there is an election going on!”

He paused for a moment. For effect. For three seconds, it was so quiet you could hear a pine needle drop.

“Now. You may be thinking, ‘what does a campaign manager want with a crowd of random people? Not all of us can even vote. If he really wanted to get his candidate a better chance of winning, he’d arrange meetings with rich businessmen and make shady deals with the other side.’ Well, that isn’t it. We don’t just want to win this election. We want to form a  _ good _ government, a government for the people, and we can’t do that by making shady deals and meeting with businessmen behind closed doors. I’m not here to tell you all to vote for Jefferson. I’m here to ask what  _ you _ want from the government, regardless of who wins. I’m here to take feedback! So! Hands raised, who has questions or criticism?”

All at once, the spell of silence broke and a shocked murmur spread through the crowd. People began raising their hands. More and more people, until almost everybody had a hand up. There were hundreds of them.

“What is Mr. Jefferson’s stance on the situation in France?”

“Will Mr. Jefferson abolish the Supreme Court if he is elected?”

“Will Mr. Jefferson overturn the Sedition Act?”

***

It had been dark outside for hours by the time Burr left the stage and began to make his way back to his estate. He hadn’t had to answer every single question, since many people had the same questions in mind and many others eventually decided it had gotten too late to stay out and returned to their homes, but it had still ended up being an ungodly long event.

He took a deep breath in, shut his eyes, and shifted into his natural form. Normally he could hold his flightless five-foot-three-ish human-esque form for much longer periods of time than twelve or so hours, but that had been getting much harder, lately. For whatever reason.

***

“Burr, I know you. I know conjuring is not your strong suit. Those Vote Jefferson signs didn’t just appear magically. Unless you’ve actually been one of the greatest conjurers the world has ever seen this whole time and have somehow kept it from literally everybody.”

“I never said I conjured the signs! I used magic to put them up, of course, but I made them through natural means--”

“You...magicked election signs...on almost  _ every lawn in America...overnight  _ ?”

“What, was I supposed to go put them up by hand? I don’t have forever, Van Ness. The election is this year, not a century from now!”

Van Ness sighed.

“Burr,” he said, matter-of-factly, “you are going to run yourself into the ground if you work at that rate.”

“No, I won’t. And besides, I promised Mr. Jefferson I would do everything in my power to campaign for him. And I meant  _ everything in my power _ .”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get yourself killed.”

***

The crowd seemed to get progressively bigger at every rally Burr hosted. No matter where they were staged, it seemed like half America’s population was showing up. But no matter how many people showed up, it was the same every time; all eyes on Burr the entire time, not so much as a whisper from anybody while he was speaking. Sometimes there were hundreds of hands raised by the end of a rally. Every time, Burr answered everybody.

Burr took to teleporting on-stage in a puff of glittery smoke at the beginning of rallies as something of a signature move, but continued to try and find ways to make the presentation more dramatic.

***

People often approached Burr in the streets, when he was there in his larger form. With questions and feedback and small-talk and, often, with sexual comments. He didn’t mind, of course. He took to getting around the country in that form from then on, keeping his body steadily somewhere between four-foot-nine and five-foot-three for as long as he physically could before it would simply revert forcibly whether he wanted it to or not.

***

Of course, with so many people showing up at campaign events now, it was only a matter of time before Burr encountered protesters.

“And so Mr. Jefferson is clearly the better candidate, as he has no intention of encroaching upon--”

“Burr!”

A group of people stood off to the side. One of them, another fae, called out,

“What really happened with Alexander Hamilton?”

“Hello there, good sir!” said Burr, cheerily. “This, as you might have noticed from all the decorations with his name on it, is in fact a rally for _ Thomas Jefferson _ , and has absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Hamilton.”

“The people deserve the truth!” shouted another protester.

“The people deserve a good president,” responded Burr. “And I am  _ busy _ trying to help that happen, right now.”

“Fae like you are the reason nobody trusts the Fair Folk!” cried the first protester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, dialogue in some fancy font means the speaker is using some sort of verbal magic there


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is set before chapter 1.  
CONTENT WARNING FOR KIDNAPPING AND ATTEMPTED RAPE.

Alexander Hamilton had never been the nicest of people. He was very combative, and prone to printing attack ads in his newspaper. On a bad day, he might actually challenge people to fisticuffs or duels is they irritated him. On a good day, he wasn’t exactly unpleasant, just... _ intense _ . But for all this, nobody had ever seen him quite the way he got when he encountered Aaron Burr.

It was as though he was under some sort of furious-obsession-inducing spell--which he claimed he was, but nobody had ever known Burr to cast that sort of spell. According to those who knew him, Burr used magic for mundane purposes. He cleared up hangovers after a long night partying. Kept his clothes miraculously dry and clean all the time. Made himself smell pleasant, made sure his hair and makeup stayed perfect, changed the colors of his clothes, kept himself at a human size for ease of socializing, that sort of thing. He had never, as far as anyone seemed to know, intentionally forced any emotions or thoughts on anybody.

Who was telling the truth? Nobody really knew. It wasn’t possible to prove Hamilton was enchanted and not just obsessed with Burr. It was no more possible to prove Burr  _ hadn’t _ bewitched him somehow. It was entirely Hamilton’s word against Burr’s, and Hamilton was a personal favorite of George Washington himself, so of course most people Hamilton bothered to tell about the situation believed him.

It wasn’t a widespread publicity issue for Burr. He ignored it. Avoided Hamilton. Avoided talking about Hamilton.

He should have known that would be a bad move.

***

Burr had never really considered the possibility that being three inches tall made him vulnerable in any way. In his experience, the opposite had usually been true. Being so small made it easy for him to escape from unpleasant situations. Until he woke up and found that he was not wearing any clothes and his arms and legs were tied to something with strings.

He blinked a few times. This wasn’t particularly easy to process. How was he supposed to react? Shock seemed like the most realistic option. Maybe this was a nightmare? No, probably not. It didn’t feel like one. He looked around the room. It was a bedroom, a human-sized one. Somebody was asleep in the bed.

The sun was rising, filling the room with light that made sleeping supremely difficult, and the person in the bed stirred. Stretched. Yawned. Burr saw his face, and suddenly ‘shock’ seemed like a less appropriate emotion than ‘utter terror.’ He strained against the threads, but it was, of course, no use.

Hamilton, now out of bed, stared directly at Burr.

“Good morning, little one,” he growled, approaching the desk he had placed Burr on.

“God have mercy,” murmured Burr.

“Your home is really criminally lacking in security.”

“You know what’s  _ criminal _ , Mr. Hamilton? Kidnapping!”

“Oh, be quiet.”

“Sir, just let me go. If you let me go, I’ll pretend this never happened! I won’t press any charges, or tell anybody, or anything of the sort.”

“I don’t trust you,” came the reply.

Hamilton reached down to trace Burr’s bare chest with one finger.

“But that isn’t the point, here. The point is that I am going to resolve this  _ situation _ once and for all.”

“Er...what  _ situation _ is that, exactly?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Now be quiet, or I shall have to gag you.”

Hamilton’s finger lifted from Burr’s chest, before caressing his legs, then moving upwards. He tapped Burr’s cock with the tip of it, smirking sadistically.

“It isn’t fair, you know,” he muttered. “You looking like this. Nobody should be that physically flawless, yet here you are. Even when you’re my prisoner, it’s damned infuriating.”

“Sir--”

“ _ Quiet _ ! Not a  _ sound _ , or I shall  _ break _ you!”

For a moment, Hamilton’s hand withdrew altogether. He fumbled for a moment. Burr heard the sound of something made of fabric dropping to the floor, and felt his blood run cold as Hamilton, now as naked as he was, came closer and took his own cock in his hand. By human standards it wasn’t particularly big, but it  _ was  _ bigger than Burr’s entire three-inch-tall body.

Part of Burr wanted to ask what Hamilton even planned to  _ do _ with it, considering it was quite literally physically impossible for that thing to fit inside Burr at the moment, but recalled Hamilton’s previous threat, and figured it likely wasn’t an empty one. He took a deep breath and held it, shutting his eyes tightly.

“I am going to enjoy this very much,” cooed Hamilton, positioning his cock directly over Burr’s bound body and beginning to stroke himself--

Then, suddenly, the room filled with light. An awful, unnatural light, shining as bright as the sun and in incomprehensible colors that burned Hamilton’s eyes to see. His skin began to feel as though it were simultaneously incredibly cold and incredibly hot.

“What the Hell?”

Hamilton could no longer see his bedroom at all, the place seeming to melt away in front of him, giving way to a landscape he could just barely make out through all the light. An utterly alien landscape he could hardly wrap his mind around. It hurt his eyes just to look at.

Burr, now only a few inches shorter than Hamilton and fully-clothed, hovered in front of him. Something about him was  _ horrifying _ to look at, every atom of his body seemed to radiate fury. He raised his hand.

“𝕿̮̫̭͈̩̪̞͒̚𝖍̠̺͈̱͎𝖆͡𝖙̱͕̜̗̦̖̑ͅ'̺͔͓͇̝͈̖̔ͫ͊ͨ𝖘̼̤̠͚́̏͒̓̿ ̯̞̪̻̯̬̍̽ͦͬ̉𝖊̢̥͍̤̃̈̏ͧͭ𝖝͇̘̭̲̹̠̄ͨ̎̏𝖆̌ͯ̂́͐̾𝖈̡̘̪͓̫ͦͫ͋̄͒ͯͫ𝖙̰̩͖̐̊͢𝖑̝̗̝̼̫͂͋͂̒̉ͬ̕𝖞̜͕̖̞̘͇̇̽͌̐̊͒̀͘ ̶̣̱̙̝̞͍̦𝖜͈̪̹̈́͝𝖍̞𝖊̵̠ͩͩ̂͆̈́𝖗̫̤͆͜𝖊ͧ̏͗͞ ͥ̅̈́ͪ̒͞𝖞͎̝̺̦͓̋ͬ̆͠𝖔̮̇ͪ𝖚̮̜̫͈̮̽̈͗͌ͫͭ'̂͒ͪ𝖗̶̲̜̠̆̎̊̂͛ͪͭ𝖊̧͖̹̎͆̚ ̲̪̎ͤͮͥ̓𝖌̨̱̮̥̱͓̞𝖔̑̄𝖎̱̈́͂̄ͩͧ̈́𝖓̢͓̰̪͑̋̌̎̑ͬ̚𝖌ͦͫ͛ͧ̐ͯ҉̗̠,̡̘̼̬̩̌ ̣͖̳̯̒ͯ̊͒͠𝖘̫͆͋͝𝖎̵̦̦̼̺̠̥̦̂̾̀̀𝖗̰̠̞̦̳̟̽͗͡,” he shrieked, in an inhuman voice that seemed to come from all directions at once.

Hamilton screamed.

All at once, the light cleared and Burr was back in Hamilton’s bedroom.

But Hamilton was nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so the fair folk in this fic are essentially humanoid-looking eldritch abominations,


End file.
